We kiss beneath white wild stars
and open this earthly summer.

For so long I have surrendered
myself to random joys
like a sleepwalker
who fears her darker wisdoms,
her deftly-stitched bounds
between earthbound need
and castblind wish.

No longer.

Your eyes in mine
bloom into attar sloops of wind.

Memories burning with you
will upturn more bliss
than any marriage
in the mouth.

With you I will no longer reminisce
the future and its lidless griefs.

by Richard Bunch

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.